


Only For A Night

by SnitchNightly



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Dancing, F/F, FatT Femslash Week, Fluff, cannon is..... optional., fake relationships, making fun of paladins, where’s throndir? he’s with red jack now stop asking q uestions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 19:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15419835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnitchNightly/pseuds/SnitchNightly
Summary: “And I heard your voiceAs clear as dayAnd you told me I should concentrate”(Quote and title from Only For A Night by Florence and the Machine because.... I’m basic)Adaire needs a cover story. Hella needs a date.





	Only For A Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for fatt femslash week day three: dancing. We all knew this was going to happen. We all knew....... anyways. I’m late uploading this, and it’s as short as usual, so,,, big sorry. I’m,, kinda happy with this tbh,,, Adaire... good. Hella also good. They r..... wifes....

“If she really needs a plus one I’m sure I can just-“

“No. Absolutely not. This is a reconnaissance mission, not a siege, Hadrian.” Adaire said, with as much calm as she could muster.  
“We don’t need both of you trying to brute force your way through.”

Hella just shrugged. 

“Adaire is probably the better dancer, anyways. She could cover for me.”  
She gestured dramatically at Hella, as if that had just proved her point completely.  
Hadrian looked at them blankly across the campfire. “I know how to dance…” he muttered, but Adaire tactically ignored him.  
She was good at that.

“So. We use Hellas invite from the Ordennan army to get in and cause a distraction, Hadrian gets in and finds what’s his face and does the whole… whatever his plan is.”

“I just need to break him out and maybe ask some questions… while I’m there.”

“That’s nice. Don’t get caught.”  
Hadrian bristled.  
“I’m not going to get caught.”

Hella patted his arm in a way that looked a little too painful to be sympathetic, but Adaire had learned that that was just how warriors were sometimes. In Hadrian’s credit, it didn’t seem to bother him that much, but that was probably all the plate mail. 

“More importantly, what are we going to be wearing?” This was directed at Hellas, but she and Hadrian answered at the same time.  
“This?”  
Adaire let out a long suffering sigh, like a small child had just asked her for the 8th time why they had to wear shoes. 

“You’re not wearing armor. Either of you. Chain mail is fine for Hadrian, but I said don’t get caught, not stomp around in half a kitchens worth of pots and pans until the sun goes out.”  
He gave her a look. She couldn’t tell if it was about the armor or the light blasphemy, but she moved on.  
“And Hella, there’s no way you can move properly in that.”  
Hella raised an eyebrow, pausing mid sip of her tea.  
“I didn’t mean you’re not very impressive while fighting, it’s just that dancing is a whole other skill set, and I’m not letting you try it in 30 pounds of metal.”  
“Yes, but Hella is very good with armor.”  
“Thank you for the input, Hadrian-“  
“I am very good with armor.” They both nodded sagely at each other across the fire. Adaire couldn’t tell if it was some kind of joke only for people with biceps bigger than their fists, or if everyone with that much metal on them just started to develop a hive mind after a while, but she didn’t like it.  
She stood up in a huff, knocking the dirt off her dress with a slightly too aggressive movement. 

“Right then, both of you on your feet, let’s test this theory.”  
Hella stood obediently, but Hadrian just blinked at her. “Theory?”  
Adaire scowled. 

“If either of you can manage a competent waltz without breaking my toes, I’ll admit defeat and let Hella clunk around like a one woman orchestra on the dance floor. If not, we go into town and buy something cheap and sensible.”

If by ‘buy something cheap and sensible’ she meant ‘steal something expensive and flattering’, well, Hadrian could mind his own business and Hella wouldn’t care either way. 

Hadrian put his hands up in surrender, shaking his head.  
“No, no. I’m fine. I’d rather be awake at a reasonable hour tomorrow. Enjoy your… dance lesson? I guess? Wake me up when my watch starts.”  
With one more mildly violent arm-pat as a display of affection, Hadrian shuffled off to his tent, fiddling with the clasp on his (uncharacteristically nice looking) cloak.  
Adaire glared after him.  
“I knew he couldn’t dance.” She muttered triumphantly. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a heavily gauntleted hand landed on her waist.

“I think you just scared him.” 

Hella sounded much closer that Adaire had expected, and she had to take a moment to steady herself before turning around and adjusting Hellas hand to the more appropriate spot on her rib cage. 

“He’s very easy to scare. It’s like trying to talk to a baby duck with metal feathers and a savior complex.” 

Hella snorted, nose wrinkling. Lit by just the firelight and the moon, her scarred face looked comforting, like sturdy cotton in a good cape or heavy parchment, the kind that never bled or tore under her pen. Adaire resisted the urge to pinch herself.

“We should come up with a story,” she said, automatically fixing her posture and taking lead. 

Hella took the hint and stepped backwards when Adaire nudged her foot. 

“You’re my wife.”

That was way too smooth. Adaire’s brain ground to a halt for a dangerously long moment, nearly costing her a toe under Hellas heavy boot.  
“Sorry-“

“No, you’re fine. Wife is too easy to disprove. You’re there as a public figure, they’ll know immediately since you haven’t mentioned me before. And afterward, it should be something easier to break off, so you don’t need to keep it up any longer than necessary.”  
“Oh.”

Hella focused on her steps for a minute, letting Adaire keep time under her breath. They fell into a simple rhythm as Hella slowly remembered the basic steps. While Adaire knew she should up the tempo and move on with the lesson, a tiny, treacherous voice in her mind convinced her that maybe they needed just a minute or two more like this. Hella was concentrating so sincerely on the steps of the dance, brow wrinkled and eyes fixed on her feet, mouthing silently along with Adaire’s count.

“So, just partners, then?”  
“Hm? Oh, right... Yes. I’m someone you met in the last town, and we happened to be going the same way.”  
“And you thought it would be easier to split the cost of one room so we-“  
“That works, yes.” Adaire added quickly. “Do you know how to lead?”

Hella laughed, a little out of breath. “Yeah. Just give me a minute.”  
Adaire took a step back, and smirked as Hella started undoing the clasps on her armor.  
“I warned you.”  
“No, I can dance in it, I proved that…”  
“Mmhmm.”  
“I did!”  
“Sure.”  
Hella stuck her tongue out childishly and tossed her front chest plate at Adaire, who stumbled backwards as she caught it.

“Fine. You win. No armor tomorrow.”

When she recovered, she was greeted with Hella peeling off her chainmail under armor, dressed only in the thread bare sleeveless tunic she wore to prevent chafing. She was (as is typical after a day in armor) doused in sweat, which probably should have been more of an unpleasant thought than it was, but Adaire found it difficult to think anything at all as Hella tugged off her gauntlets. Well. Mostly she was thinking about how nice her arms looked in the fire light. Or any light at all, really.

Adaire turned around and counted to ten, not so much ‘swooning’ as making a calculated effort to regroup. 

When she turned back around, Hella was dressed only in the tunic and a pair of light linen pants, her breast band having disappeared at some point into the pile of discarded armor. 

“Ready?”

It was a long night.


End file.
